


promise me tomorrow

by Quyinn



Series: I can't wait (soulmark-verse) [1]
Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drabble Collection, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff without Plot, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neil Melendez can play guitar, Neil Melendez has a nipple piercing, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, injured neil, self indulgent fluff, shaun look after him, thats it thats the fic, you cant change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24187036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quyinn/pseuds/Quyinn
Summary: Neil gets mugged on his way home and needs someone to look after him in his dazed, concussed state.That's it, that's the fic
Relationships: Neil Melendez/Shaun Murphy
Series: I can't wait (soulmark-verse) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745644
Comments: 3
Kudos: 167





	promise me tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer (pls dont yell at me)  
> i haven't seen a full episode of the show, but from the clips i've seen, i'm so in love with these characters  
> please let me know if i mess up/ make mistakes, thank you!!

Neil’s soul mark danced up his veins, mixing with the tattoo lines on his inner forearm. It was quite beautiful, Neil was proud to admit, his first real spend was the tattoo to disguise his mark.The phases of the moon were outlined in artistic sketched lines, the curve of a crescent moon around the sun as the center, full moon, all of them skewered on a delicate arrow. 

His tattoo was black, all the lines, all the dots. Why is there red dripping over them? It colours the moon, the sun, the arrowhead. 

His head thunks against the car door as he leans back, groaning as pain shoots through his arm. He cups his nose, stomach churning at the sickening metallic smell. 

Oh, the blood. 

The blood that dripped down his wrist and over his tattoo. He needs to stand up. His head hurts and his eyelids are heavy. He forces them open, bile rising in his throat as his vision swims into double. 

His right side burns and sends spikes of pain through him every time he breathes. If he lifted his shirt he’d see boot prints decorating his skin in a dark bruised mess. He feels tears spill down his cheeks as he forces himself to his knees, and then to his feet. 

He leans against the car, his own no longer in his parking spot. 

_What happened?_

He remembers being followed from the shop just opposite the hospital. He had needed milk. His shift finished at seven, he was going to make pancakes. Murphy and Claire had mentioned them at lunch and he had been craving them. 

He remembers fumbling with his keys, dropping the pint of milk as he ducked a punch he saw coming in the dim street light and his car window. There were four? Five? However many broad figures held him with a thick arm around his throat, knuckles splitting his lips, booting at his knees when he kicked out at them, their hands going in his pockets and relieving him of his wallet and phone, picking his keys up off the floor and unlocking his car. 

He remembers his head cracking against the tarmac, curses spilling out of his mouth. Heavy boots drummed into his side, sinking into his abdomen, bouncing off his ribs. A snarling, boozy breath against the side of his face, a hand curling in the front of his shirt.

He remembers trying to yell when his hand was stamped on, his throat hurts as he thinks about it. Did an elbow knock him out or a fist? He can't remember.

Neil vomits, leaning heavily against the bonnet of the car. The lights from the hospital are blinding, he can barely manage to step forward. There's blood dripping down his chin. 

He wipes away the puke and blood with the sleeve of his shirt. He thinks he can hear Dr Lim as he finally staggers into the building. The lights are making his head _ache_. 

There are hands cupping his elbow, but the voices are disoriented, as if he is underwater. He thinks someone is talking to him but he’s fairly certain his head is packed with cotton wool.

He grunts as he’s sat on a soft chair- bed? Neil can only see dizzy, doubled lights, his eyes not focusing no matter how hard he tries, through the pounding in his skull. 

He shuts his eyes as his head is nudged back and his hand drops away from his face. There's blood between his teeth and he winces as latex fingers prod at his nose.

“Ouch.” He hisses through his teeth, the world becoming a little clearer as he cups his hands over his eyes. 

“Dr Melendez, do you have any idea what happened?'' The voice is soft yet somehow firm and insistent. He guesses this wasn’t the first time she had asked him. Dr Lim’s hands are on his face as his eyes are opened one at a time, a torch shone in them.

“Mugged. Hurts.” Neil slurs, gesturing to his right side. 

“I imagine so. You’re concussed, my dear.” Lim pats his cheek gently, unbuttoning his shirt as the curtain is dragged across.

“Woah, I know girls like a tough guy but at least buy- buy me dinner f’rst.” Neil tries to grin. He thinks his tone may be undercut by the blood dripping from his mouth and his fumbling for words. 

“Neil, oh my God.”

“Rez-Reznick?” He guesses, helping Lim pull his arm out of his shirt sleeve. The material clings to his bicep, dragging down his arm, leaving smears of red as it goes.

“You look awful.” She comments critically. 

Lim lays him back on the bed, taking hold of his right hand. He bites back a hard groan as she prods his fingers, making them curl into his palm.

“Woah, you kept that a secret!” Morgan laughs but she sounds far away. Neil presses his other palm to his ear. “How old were you when you got your _nipple_ _pierced_?” 

“Jokes on you, I can’t even see.” Neil counters, his throat clicking as he forces his voice steady. “Lotta kicks to chest an- and abdomen. Knocked unconscious by several hits to my face. It’s not that bad, is it?” Neil wonders, left hand poking where his eye had swollen. 

“You definitely look colourful. Reznick, can we get some ice?” Lim tells him kindly, poking gently at his chest. “Take a deep breath.”

“No.” Neil winces, eyes stinging. “We don’t breath anymore, I strictly forbid it.” He thinks he hears Morgan laugh but his body suddenly feels very heavy. He lets his head fall back against the bed, his neck feeling weak. 

He chokes on a grunt as Lim manipulates his fingers. There’s too much saliva in his mouth, everything tastes like blood. He can’t breath, the ache in his ribs turning sharp every time he sucks air in.

“Steady, Melendez. I can’t feel any breaks in your hand, nose or ribs so I don’t think we need to worry about an x-ray.” Lim tells him. He opens his eyes, blarily.

“Yeah. Fuck x-rays. They suck.” His tongue feels too big for his mouth, slick with blood. He thinks Lim smiles. Morgan cackles somewhere off to the side. 

“You need rest and a good month off work to heal from the concussion and the bad bruising on your ribs. Your fingers will need longer.”

Neil flinches as an ice pack is pressed over this swollen eye. He bites back a cry as his fingers are strapped together.

“Why do x-rays suck?” An uncertain voice is heard over Morgan’s laughing. 

“Cus, man… radiation.” Neil turns his head in the vague direction he hears Shaun’s voice come from. He takes over from Lim, easing the ice pack over the bridge of his nose with his uninjured hand, where it aches.

“You are not wrong. However I’m reluctant to let you think you are right.” He can see the blue in the hazy blur of Shaun’s eyes as he moves to Lim's side. 

They talk for a long moment, while Morgan carefully wipes over his face, drying blood around his nose and in the corner of his mouth. He tests his teeth with a nudge of his tongue. 

“You still didn’t answer my question.” He looks for the blonde surrounding her head, eyes half closed under the ice pack. “About your piercing.” 

“Oh- Oh!” Neil wraps an arm around his chest with a wince. “I was 20, I think.” Morgan chuckles, a delighted smirk over her face. “Considered myself right punk rock.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that!” Neil hums, letting his eyes close fully as the ice starts to cool the ache in his skin.

“Okay, Melendez. Shaun is going to accompany you home. We will contact the police on your behalf. ” Lim’s voice is crisp and final, her eyes creasing as she smiles kindly at him.

“My keys car was stolen. Security tapes should see who did it.” Neil starts to yawn, quickly turning it into a sharp groan as pain flares from his side.

“Keys car?” Morgan teases. Neil frowns through a wince. 

“Yes? Keys and car. Do fellas like tough guys as well ‘s girls?” Neil slowly says, his eyes opening with a throb underneath the ice pack. Morgan raises an eyebrow, helping him sit up and thread his arms into a soft fleecy jacket. She zips it up and ties the strings in a bow. 

“I’m sure guys love a tough guy.” She's teasing but Neil isn’t sure he knows why. He was asking seriously. He thinks she continues talking, he hears then say his name, Shaun's name maybe.

The lights are so bright. He lets his head fall forward, elbow resting on his knee to keep the ice pack tight to his face.

“Neil, are you listening?” Lim touches his shoulder as he yawns, carefully this time. “Murphy’s going to take you to rest at his apartment on the bus. You are going to listen to him- Neil, pay attention.” 

“I am!” Neil grumbles, letting his eyes close as Lim prods his shoulder harder. “Murphy. Bus. Bed. Got it.” 

“Shaun, are you sure you can get him there okay? He’s heavily concussed.” Lim sounds like she’s frowning.

“I hav’n’t thrown up anymore. Not even feelin’ sick. Just hurt.” Neil helpfully weighs in. He feels the strings of the hoodie tugged at, and levelled.

“Can you walk okay?” Shaun hovers near him as Neil slides off the bed, his knees bending too far as he waits for the room to stop spinning.

“Bright in ‘ere. Dizzy.” 

Shaun’s hand is warm and gentle, cupping his elbow on his injured hand.

“It's 118.4 feet from the front of the hospital to the bus stop. That’s 47 steps.” Shaun helps him stand up straight, taking some of his weight easily.

“You speak so softly. It’s nice.” Neil puts his other hand out behind him to support his weight on the bed. “Pretty sure my knees are made of jelly.” He grunts as Morgan’s laugh makes his ears ring. 

“Are you going to be alright with him, Shaun?” Neil covers his ears, not fearing toppling over as fingers clutch at his elbow. 

“He has a concussion, bruised ribs and a dislocated finger. My apartment does not have any sharp lights or loud noises. He will be fine.” Neil forces his eyes open as a cool hand nudges his chin up. He tries to focus on the woman in front of him but his head spins so hard he might throw up.

“Behave yourself for Shaun, tough guy. You're his problem now.” Morgan tells him seriously. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Neil quirks the eyebrow that isn't swollen and painful and smiles in a daze when Morgan chuckles. 

“We will miss the bus if you do not start moving.” Shaun’s fingers flex against his arm. He feels Shaun’s other hand settle on his waist and guides him into walking. 

“One… two…” Neil slurs as they get out of the hospital. 

“What are you doing?” Shaun’s voice is somewhere above his head and his arm is tight around Neil’s waist.

“Countin’ steps. Wait-stop.” Neil’s knees buckle, Shaun props him against the wall of the hospital, holding him steady by the arm. “No. No, I don’t think I’ll be sick.” He drops his head on Shaun’s shoulder. 

“Fuck, my head.” He groans, pain throbbing behind his eyes..

“We need to move or we will miss the bus.” Shaun pulls him tighter into his side, taking in strained breaths as he supports Neil’s weight. “We need to move-”

“ ‘m tryin’. Murphy. Pretty sure I’m on fire.” Neil feels his eyes grow damp, pain shooting up his chest and more behind his eyes. 

“You’re not. We will miss the bus.” 

The bus in question pulls up just as Neil leans against the bus stop. He swears low in his throat, Shaun guiding him to step up into the bus. He thinks Shaun is talking to the driver but his head spins and it makes his stomach lurch. 

Thankfully, Shaun sits them near the front. The jerk of the bus wheels makes Neil groan. He leans into Shaun, shivering.

“Please try to stay awake until we get to my apartment.” Shaun’s arm settles around his shoulder and he groans. 

“ ‘m so tired.” Neil drags out the word until Shaun shakes his shoulder gently. 

“Do you remember how you got hurt?” Shaun asks softly. Neil hums, injured arm wrapping around his own chest. 

“Got mugged. Dropped my milk.” He splays his injured fingers out in front of him, waving them vaguely where he thinks Shaun’s face is. He knows he is close when long fingers wrap around his wrist, bringing his arm back down. “What if- if my fingers d’n’t work? How am I meant to play?” He whines into Shaun’s coat. 

“What do you play?” Shaun keeps the soft tone, holding on to Neil’s wrist and pressing it back around his chest. 

It's not that Neil keeps it a secret, he just doesn't really talk about himself too much to the residents. They know he’s a private person, and anyway, after Jessica, he doesn't really have much of a personal life.

“Play guitar.” He twists his fingers into a c chord against his chest, his middle and ring finger sticking out. He huffs. “I got two accoustics and an electric. I did have more but I sold them ‘cus I didn't play them almost ever.” Neil murmurs. 

“I am sure your playing will be good when your fingers heal. Do you play for many people?” Neil looks up at Shaun’s face as much as he can, seeing him smile. He returns the smile through red tinted teeth when Shaun meets his eyes for a second with a shy laugh. The bright eyes look away from his, letting go of his wrist to brush his hair away from his eyes

“Nah. Would play f’r you though.” Neil follows the movement with half closed eyes. Shaun’s hair falls back over his forehead as soon as he moves his hand away with a sigh.

“I would like that.” Shaun smiles wider, his hand squeezing Neil’s shoulder confidently. 

“You should let Claire know her lessons are payin’ off. I could almost think you were flirtin’.” Neil slurs, letting his eyes close fully. “Like wh’n you said my hair was beautiful.” 

He feels Shaun shift under his head, his hand raising off his shoulder before lightly petting his hair. 

“It is very soft. You must use good products.” Neil hums, pushing back against Shauns soft touch. “Have you ever thought about letting it grow longer?”

“Goes curly if it gets too long.” He huffs a laugh, mouth twisting in a grimace as he winces immediately.

“I have arnica cream at my apartment, it will help the bruising go down. I also have ice for your hand and face.”

Neil hums, sighing as Shaun’s blunt nails scratch against his scalp. 

“Thank you, Dr Murphy.” Neil laughs lightly, wrapping an arm around his chest. “How do you manage with all the noise on here?” Neil gestures with his uninjured hand around the bus. 

“I have noise cancelling headphones that make everything dull and helps me ground myself.” 

“Smart. Smart fella.” Neil murmurs. His head hurts and he can feel his pulse in his eye. He relaxes slowly, trying to focus on the firm fingertips on his scalp. He feels himself drift, not quite sleeping but he doesn't hear what Shaun says, just feels the words against his ear where his head has slipped more on Shauns chest. 

“Stand up please, we’re here.” Shaun’s hands are under his arms, gently pulling him to his feet. He thinks he hears Shaun say something to the bus driver but he stumbles down the slight step. He swears under his breath, Shaun’s fingers twisting in the hoodie sleeves to keep him upright.

“Are you okay?” Shaun steadies him with warm hands as if he was expecting Neil’s knees to buckle. 

“Mm. Yeah. Yeah, yeah.” Neil’s mouth falls open as he takes a shaky breath. “Fuck, I hurt.” 

He watches Shaun nod his head, and he smiles up at his resident. He doesn’t realise they’re moving until he hears the sharp screech of a gate and Shaun’ fingers smoothing down his back to hold his waist.

“Through here, watch the steps.” Shaun’s voice is soft and sweet, Neil tells him as much. He smiles shyly, Neil grinning back when his resident’s cheeks dust pink. “You keep complimenting me. Why?” 

“My head hurts too much to keep the thoughts in there.” Neil shrugs one shoulder. Shaun seems satisfied with his answer and Neil focuses his eyes on the floor as they reach a set of stairs.

He staggers more than he walks up the stairs, Shaun a step behind him. His fingers are strong around Neil and he doesn’t think he’d fall. 

He closes his eyes at the top, letting Shaun guide him along the balcony, stopping him gently at a door. He cracks one eye open to find the wall, leaning against it with one hand as shaun unlocks the door. 

Shaun helps him inside with gentle but firm hands. Neil feels the warmth seep through his hoodie and he shivers.

“You should shower before you go to sleep again.” Shaun settles him on the sofa he can't remember walking to and pulls off his shoes. He takes a fleeting look around and can’t make much out in the darkness. 

“Mm. Shower wasn’t part of the plan. Murphy, bus, bed.” Neil lists, letting his head fall forward as he slumps, his vision blurring. “Fuck-” 

“Careful.” Shauns hands caught his shoulders. “Ten minutes in the shower, wash the blood off and I’ll rewrap your hand.” He knows his mouth is open as he meets Shaun's eyes but he focuses on the blue in his eyes instead of the throbbing pain using his ribs like monkey bars. 

“What if I drown?” 

“I am a doctor, Melendez.” Shaun smiles softly at him. Neil nods, his chin almost touching his chest as his head lolls forward. 

“Stand up, please.” He has hold of Neil’s arms again, walking him to the bathroom. He sits Neil on the closed toilet lid, giving his forearms a gentle squeeze. 

“I will get you a warm set of clothes. Please put my sweatshirt in the washing basket when you take it off.”

Neil hums again, unzipping the hoodie and letting it slide off his arms as Shaun turns the shower on for him.

“The water will heat up soon, this is the cold tap. Body wash, shampoo, conditioner.” Shaun touches the tap closest to the door, taping the bottles in order. 

“You can use this towel.” Neil nods, dropping the hoodie into the basket tucked under the sink. He runs his fingers over the soft cloth over the towel rail. “I’ll be in the bedroom, call me if you need anything.” 

Shaun fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt while Neil is listening in a slight daze. 

“Th’nks.” Neil shakes himself out of it and smiles through his slurring, using the sink to help him stand. Shaun smiles and closes the door behind him. 

Neil undoes his trousers, shifting his weight from foot to foot to shimmy them down his legs. He frowns, looking at himself in the mirror. 

The left right side of his face is swollen, he squints, focusing on the split in his bottom lip, the dark bruising in the corner of his left eye, the bags under his eyes showing more clearly on his pale face from his twenty three hour shift. There’s dried blood on his right arm, marring the lines of his tattoo. The bruising across his ribs makes him close his eyes. 

He grunts as he pulls his boxers under the swell of his ass, letting them fall as well. 

Some of the skin is broken over his 8th rib, the angry bruise spreading further down part way over his abdomen. There are lighter bruises on his thigh.

He swallows the bile that rises in his throat and turns to step into the shower cubicle. The water is cooler than he expected. It washes over his face, and down his back, smothering the burning ache in his skin.

Neil slowly squeezes some of Shaun’s body wash onto his uninjured hand, grimacing as the water turns rusty at his feet as he washes away the blood. He covers his skin in the subtle eucalyptus, blue gel lathering nicely over his chest and arms. 

He washes the sweat out of his hair with the foaming shampoo, squeezing his eyes closed as the suds drip down his face. He lets his head tip back under the spray of the shower head, lukewarm water filling his mouth. It spills over his chin, mingling with the soap on his face. 

Neil splutters, carding conditioner through his hair, gargling soapy water to rid himself of the metallic taste at the back of his throat.

He stands under the shower head until the water no longer runs red and soapy, until his eyes are stinging with tears as pain sears under his skin. Neil leans back against the tiled wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, choking back a sob only to let out a sharp grunt as the action makes his chest expand. 

He feels the tears run down his cheeks, hot compared to the water that cascades over his head.

“Dr Melendez, I brought you spare clothes. May I come in and set them on the sink?” 

“Yeah-fuck. Yeah, th’t’s okay. Murphy, can you maybe… Help me up?” Neil draws his knees as much as he can to his chest, a ragged breath escaping him. 

Shaun opens the door, laying the neat pile of clothes on the sink and bending to pick up Neil’s discarded clothing and putting them in the basket as well. 

“Are you finished in the shower? Or do you need to continue washing?” Shaun asks, fiddling with the edge of his shirt, eyes on the floor. 

“I’m done. I don’t th’nk I can get up without screamin’. And neither of us want that.” He huffs a breathless laugh, wincing as he does so with a grimace. 

“Why did you sit down if you couldn get back up?” Shaun passes him the towel and takes hold of his left forearm to ease him up on his feet. Neil grapples to keep steady on his feet, careful not to lean all his weight on Shaun and also hold the towel over his groin, but he manages to stay decent to sit back on the toilet lid. 

“Hurts. Couldn’t bear standing up anymore.” He grits out, Shaun’s hands hot on his skin.

“I’ll be back in a minute or two.” Shaun tells him, before ducking out the bathroom door. 

Neil swipes the towel quickly over his crotch, drying himself as much as he could before laying the towel over his dick and plucking the sweatpants from the pile of clothes Shaun left. 

He grunts, bringing an ankle to rest on his other knee to hook his foot into the leg of the sweatpants. He pulls them up his calf, only grimacing slightly at the way they soak up the water. He repeats with the other leg, barely managing to stay upright to jerk the sweatpants over his ass. 

“Are you okay?” Shaun is suddenly in front of him, hand on his damp shoulder. He’s tipped dangerously forward, seeing dizzy double. 

“Fuck. Yeah, Murphy. Just hurts.” 

“I’ve left paracetamol and a glass of water on the bedside table.” Neil nods lazily, letting Shaun pluck the towel from his lap. It’s wrapped over Neil's bare shoulders and Shaun helps him to his feet. He doesn’t feel himself take any steps, just feels the burning in his side at every strained breath.

There's a bed. He notices it as observant as a doctor should. He’s being pushed back against the headboard, pillows stacked under his lower back. 

“Would you like help applying the arnica?” Shaun’s voice is softer than the one he usually uses for the patients. Neil doesn’t remember closing his eyes but when he forces them open, Shaun’s waiting patiently, a tub of cream proffered. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be nice.” Neil swallows, the soap and water from the shower doing nothing to wash the coppery taste from between his teeth. Shaun gently runs the towel down his side, tapping his elbow. Neil grunts, complying and stretching his arm out gingerly so Shaun can dry over the bruising. 

“This will hurt.”

“No doubt, Murphy. Don’t hold it against me if I cry.” Neil tries to joke, but from the kind smile that flits on Shaun’s lips suggests it didn’t sound as light as he intended. 

“My opinion of you won’t be affected if you cry.” Shaun unscrews the lid of the tub, scooping some cream onto his fingers. 

Neil smiles weakly, clenching his jaw as Shaun rubs circles over the bruises, starting at the light red splotches under his armpit, working his way over Neil’s chest and back down over each rib. 

Neil hisses every so often, Shaun’s other hand setting the tub down beside Neil’s hip so it’s free to drag over his left forearm. 

“May I ask about your soulmark?” Shaun asks quietly. 

Neil weighs the idea in his head, the actual design of his soulmark so faint in his mind he can barely recall what it looks like. 

“Sure. Go ahead.” 

“Do you have one?” From the tone of his voice, Neil knows Shaun is asking only to keep the pretense of manners up. 

All of his residents knew Neil was a private person, he didn’t often share personal information. Soulmarks are definitely private. There is the odd person, desperate (in Neil's eyes at least) for a lasting relationship that tweets their soulmark in something they call 'hope'. He doesn't get it. 

He sighs, remembering when Morgan had her belly button pierced and without thinking he supplied a good website to get plastic piercings from so she could keep it in under her shirt at work. The eyebrow raise she had given him made him avoid the break room for the rest of the day. 

“You’re touchin’ it.” Neil’s smile was crooked, meeting Shaun’s eyes.

“All of it?” 

“Nah, had it cov’red when I was 24.”

“Why? Do you not enjoy the thought of soulmates?” 

“I do. I-” Neil groans as Shaun presses the cream into a dark bruise. “I dated someone in my twenties, they drew my mark on 'emself.” Shaun’s eyes widened. “ ‘s okay, we broke up and I moved cities. Nobody here knows what it looks like.”

“Oh.” Neil uses his injured hand, the one that Shaun isn’t holding, to wipe his face carefully avoiding his eye. He scrubs at his wet hair, and where it has dripped over the back of his neck. “I think I understand why the residents find you attractive.”

Neil barks a surprised laugh, immediately turning into a groan as his diaphragm spasms into a cough. Shaun's hand is pressed flat on his ribs, steadying him through the sharp pain. 

“Sorry. This can’t be easy for you. Hav’n to touch me so much.” Neil smiles weakly. 

“I don’t mind. I like touching you.” As if to prove it, Shaun follows the bold lines of his tattoo from his wrist to inner elbow. 

He smears arnica around Neil’s eye, smoothing down the tail of his eyebrow with the pad of his thumb. The simple admission of affection causes a breath to catch in Neil’s throat. 

“ ‘f you get a pen, I’ll draw my mark. ‘f you want.” Neil can’t stop the words tumbling from over his swollen lip. The look on Shaun's face is something soft, and content, his hair curling around his ears. 

“You have a bad concussion, Dr Melendez.” Shaun’s eyes are bright and honest. Neil can’t help smile, even if his head throbs in protest of having his eyes open for so long. “You may show me when you are of sound mind. I will try to flirt with you again when you aren’t about to pass out.”

“Wha-” The word dies on his tongue. Shaun’s fingers are soft on his face as his eyes slip closed. 

  
  
  


He wakes slowly, feeling his breaths aching in his chest, the dull throb in his right hand, the cotton wool backed into his ears. There’s fingers in his hair, a hand cupping his jaw. 

“You need to drink some water, please.” 

Neil makes a quiet whine, opening his mouth when the hand comes out of his hair and cool glass rests over the split on his bottom lip. He opens his eyes but he can only see out of one of them. 

“Drink slowly. After you fell asleep, I re-strapped your fingers and used ice packs to help control the swelling.” Neil hums, swallowing when the trickle of water has cooled his tongue down. “Would you like some paracetamol?”

Neil hums again, smiling when the capsules are pushed into his mouth. He curls his tongue around them, grimacing as they stick, but swallows with a half mouthful of water. 

Shaun’s hair is wet, he can see the dark colour through the slight fuzz. He’s in fresh clothes and looks tired, circles under his eyes. 

“You slept?”

Shaun shakes his head, putting the glass down and wiping Neil’s chin with his thumb. 

“You should. Look tired.” The left side of Neil’s face feels numb from the ice.

“No, I can’t.” Shaun pulls the ice off his eye and chest, before pulling a blanket to cover him up to his shoulders. “I need to make sure you are okay.”

“I am.” Neil smiles. “Get some sleep. You’re a good friend, Shaun.” He tries to suppress a yawn, wincing as it pulls at his side. 

Shaun’s hand returns to his hair, and he sits so his hip is pressing against Neil’s uninjured side. Shaun smiles, pink lips impossibly sweet, his eyes so blue. 

He drifts between sleep, feeling the bed move when Shaun does. He thinks he ate toast? He remembers laughing when Shaun laid beside him and realised there wasn’t a spare pillow. 

He remembers Shaun’s shoulder firmly against his, at the headboard, his quiet concession of _“I don't think I’ve heard you laugh before.”_ and the heat that rose in Neil’s cheeks when Shaun’s low whisper; _“I like your laugh.”_

  
  
  


It’s the sunlight that coaxes him fully awake. The digital clock on the bedside told him, with some persuasion to focus, it was a little before 10. He groans quietly, pressing his palm to his forehead, as if that would dull the headache. Beside the clock sat a folded piece of paper with neat inked print saying _“Take at half 9- Shaun.”_

Neil grunts, swiping the two tablets from the paper and swallowing them dry. His neck doesn’t ache as badly as he thought it would have, considering he slept sitting upright. Neil pushes the blanket off his chest. He slowly swung his legs out of bed, full bladder making itself known. 

Staggering slightly, Neil manages to get himself in the bathroom, holding a hand up in a wave when Shaun looks up at him from the couch. 

He holds onto the wall as he pisses, not trusting himself to stand straight. Washing his hands, he takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror. His eye is definitely less swollen, the bruising still dark and angry. 

He doesn’t look at his ribs. 

“Neil? That was Officer Anderson from the station. She said the hospital security made it easy to find the men who attacked you.” Neil opens the door, Shaun's hands stretching to take hold of him and guide him towards the bedroom. 

“She would like you to identify the men, and collect your things.” Neil groans as he sits back on the bed, Shaun’s hands sliding down his arm to hold his left wrist. “I can accompany you to the station on my way to work.”

“What time?”

“Three. 17 hours. I can visit you after my shift to make sure you’re alright.”

“Sound’s good.” He takes a mouthful of water before shifting to lay back against the pillows. Shaun sits beside him, tub of arnica in hand. “That sound’s better.” Neil chuckles, nodding to the tub.

Shaun slathers it over his ribs, shushing him with a light apology. Neil laughs at the mischief in Shaun's blue eyes. He wipes gently with the pads of his fingers under and around Neil's eye, dipping down the hollow of his cheek. 

“Any memory loss? Do you remember getting here? What you ate? What we talked about?” Shaun’s voice is light. 

“Mm. Bus, shower, bed. Water. Toast? Pills.” Neil thinks, hearing Shaun’s soft voice bounce off the cotton wool in his head. “Wanted to know ‘bout my mark. Flirting. You liked my laugh.” Neil smiles reassuringly at the pink that dusted Shaun's face.

“You also said you’d play your guitar for me.” Neil chuckles low in his throat, cheeks hurting with the stretch of his grin. 

“Yeah? D’you like guitar?”

“Not really. I’ve never enjoyed music much.” Shaun picks at his nails. Neil hums and reaches for his hand. 

“Maybe I can change your mind.” Neil’s hand is open, the lines on his palm inviting for Shaun to take. He does, his long fingers mindful of the dark bruises and where Neil’s middle and ring finger strapped together. 

“Would you like to have breakfast tomorrow? I can make it at your apartment.” 

“As a ‘good friend’ action? Or are you asking for somethin’ more than friendship?” Neil murmurs, tipping his head. He watches Shaun, the way his blue eyes are focusing hard on the back of his own hand, the way Neil’s thumb is stroking over a knuckle.

“A date. A date with me. I will make breakfast and we will eat together.” Shaun’s fingers flex, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“I can’t wait.” Neil smiles, squeezing his hand gently back.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :))
> 
> i plan on writing more in the soulmark-verse (i doubt i'll ever find a plot), if you have any comments or suggestions pls let me know!
> 
> im not very active but you can find me on tumblr: bloodyjacksparrow  
> or insta: eatlead_dieearly


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